“Yeesss.” Markus took out the scrap of paper and studied it, frowning. “I am afraid we have the same difficulty. We simply don’t have enough of it to understand. I mean, we don’t even know what objects the ‘articles’ refers to. It could be anything. And what on earth is the Feast of Sacrifice?”
Something Markus had said made Dominic’s mind race. Something out of place, that didn’t make sense. He reviewed the conversation several times before he understood.
“Not things. Articles in a journal or newspaper,” Dominic burst out. “Otherwise they would say something about the location. They have to send the articles a week before to make sure they are published in time.”
Markus considered the idea. “Well, and what would these articles be about, and why would it be so important? After all, the—” he broke off, staring down the hallway to the private wing. Dominic followed his gaze and saw Ardhuin and Gutrune walking towards them, deep in conversation.
Neither appeared terribly concerned, and Dominic let himself relax a little.
“Have you been waiting all this time?” enquired Gutrune. “It is well past the dinner hour.”
“He would not let me leave,” Markus said, his mobile face becoming suddenly mournful. “Asking questions, one after the other.” Dominic’s jaw dropped with indignation. Then Ardhuin, surprisingly, laughed.
“He does that very well. It is a formidable talent,” she agreed, smiling. He had not seen her smile for much too long. What had happened? “What were these questions?”
Markus froze, but managed to recover. “Well, he wanted to know what the Feast of Sacrifice was.”
“One of the holy days of the Adaran religion,” Gutrune said. “Why do you ask?”
Markus glanced casually around the hallway before answering. “It was mentioned in something we found at von Gerling’s quarters.”
Dominic watched Ardhuin carefully. She seemed rather pale to him, and the brief flash of humor was gone.
“Adarans. Again.” Markus thought for a moment. “You recall the bodies they have been finding, completely bloodless. It is a common superstition that Adarans use human blood in their rituals.”
“You don’t think they are responsible for the killings, do you?” Ardhuin looked shocked.
“No, I do not.” Markus gestured in a dismissive way. “I know very little about their customs, but every Adaran I am acquainted with is sufficiently intelligent to realize leaving a body on your front doorstep attracts attention. I think someone is using that superstition to cast suspicion on them.” He hesitated. “There is one other thing. This is not generally known, and has been suppressed in the newspapers. Each one of those killed had some degree of magical talent—three lamplighters, a minor jobbing magician, and a man who did advertising simulacra.”
“Is there any way we could search for unusual newspaper articles concerning the Adarans...and perhaps this blood superstition?” Dominic asked.
Markus sighed. “Again with the articles. You don’t even have a good idea of what you are looking for.”
“I will make inquiries,” Gutrune said in her calm way. “There are services that do precisely what you describe,” she said to Dominic, giving Markus an enigmatic look as she left.
Dominic wondered how quickly these services could produce results, and if it would be in time. Now he had other concerns.
“When did you last eat?” he asked Ardhuin. She gave a wan smile that was not convincing.
“Sometime this morning,” she confessed. “I was hungry, but...I did not wish to talk to anyone.”
“Then you shall be fed, in our select company,” Markus stated with a sweeping bow. “I am sure Herr Kermarec is as in need of sustenance as I. You keep us very busy, you know.”
Ardhuin ducked her head, face crimson. Dominic scowled furiously at Markus, who grimaced in silent apology.
Markus found a room and sent servants for food. He made no further awkward comments, and Ardhuin gradually regained her composure and joined in the conversation.
“There is something I have been trying to recall,” Dominic said when the meal had finished. “Is there any connection between blood and magic? I read a curious passage once, about ancient priests drinking a cup of their mingled blood to share power.” He felt his own face heat, remembering where he had read it. A book in Ardhuin’s library, just before he was trapped by the magical protections of another volume.
She looked surprised. Dominic noted that her face had regained some of its natural color. “I am not aware of any connection—but then little is known of how a magician uses magic. The thaumatic physician who examined me might be better informed.”
Gutrune von Kitren entered the room with a quick step. She was breathing deeply and held a sheaf of papers in her hand.
Markus got to his feet, tense and alert. “You have found something.” It was a statement, not a question.
“In what context did the reference to the Feast of Sacrifice occur?” she asked abruptly. Markus said nothing, but handed her the scrap of paper. Gutrune drew in her breath as she read. “This is most alarming. I have disturbing news.”
“You were able to find what I described?” Dominic asked, incredulous. “So quickly?”
“Unfortunately, yes. They knew precisely where to look, because they had seen the articles earlier and remarked on them. Here are two of them. They were published in a working-man’s newspaper and a radical political magazine.”
Gutrune placed the clippings on the table. Dominic craned his head to read them. They were full of cold hatred for the Adaran people, ascribing every possible vice to them and blaming them for the troops now seen in the streets. The reason, it seemed, was their treasonous intent to destroy Preusa and put it under their control. Much was made of the bodies found outside the Closure and a purported connection between the Feast of Sacrifice and human blood.
While the two articles differed in many details, there was one phrase repeated in both. The rats should be destroyed in their holes, the wasps-nest burned.
“When is this Feast of Sacrifice?” Dominic asked, numbly trying to comprehend. Was someone trying to start a war here, in Baerlen?
Gutrune spread her hands. “The Feast lasts four days. It ends tomorrow.”
Ardhuin looked up from the newspaper clippings. “Perhaps their plans were disrupted when von Gerling was discovered.”
“Perhaps, but I will point out the articles date a week from tomorrow,” Gutrune said.
“What can be done?” Markus said, his dark face looking very grim. Gutrune merely shook her head.
“But...the danger is clear,” Dominic said, puzzled. “The police, the military—you have alerted them, have you not?”
Markus grimaced. “There is a good deal of animosity towards the Adarans right now. These articles are only remarkable for the level of hatred and the specific threats, unfortunately. The police may not take part in the attack, but they won’t stop it, either. The military is engaged in keeping the general peace of the city.”
“And the Kriegsa is not a possibility either,” Ardhuin added bitterly.
“Not through official channels, no,” Markus agreed, flashing a smile. “But I’ve never liked that method anyway. Don’t mope. You are not the only one von Koller has irritated. I think some of the younger magicians might be willing to lend quiet assistance.”
What they really needed were people who felt well-disposed towards the Adarans, if they existed. Dominic drew in a sharp breath. “The students! Jochim Weiskopf is their friend. I think they might be able to help—or know of those who will. I will go find them and enquire.” Besides the need for action, he also felt a strong desire to be alone with his thoughts for a while. He could not resolve what he felt concerning Ardhuin when she was present.
“The university gates will be closed by now,” Markus pointed out. “Even the Kriegsa will not be very lively at this hour.”
“What if they attack tonight?” Ardhuin asked. “We can’t be sure tha
t they will hold to exactly one week’s time from the publication of the articles.”
In the discussion that followed, Markus persuaded Ardhuin to let him arrange for watchers on the Closure, in exchange for her promise to go to sleep. Gutrune remained silent but watchful.
“I can set watchers as well,” she said when Ardhuin still hesitated. “I can also arrange for a warning to be sent to those in authority in the Closure. They likely have their own defensive measures. It has been attacked before.”
No alert came through the night. Once again on the grounds of the university the next day, Dominic was at a loss. He didn’t know where to find the students he knew. The lecture halls he found were empty. Then he remembered that Dieter was no longer taking classes, and he did know where his workroom was.
The large laboratory was locked up, but Dominic’s pounding on the door brought Dieter out from a side office, hair as tousled as ever. He listened attentively to Dominic’s explanation.
“That’s bad,” Dieter agreed. “Of course we want to help, but I don’t know how much good I’ll be,” he said wryly, indicating his broken arm.
“Your friends, perhaps?”
“Yes, and...we have a fencing club. Here, I’ll give you my key. It’s right by the gate, with a gabled slate roof. You go and wait there, and I’ll start finding people. It might take a while. We’ve got a half-holiday.”
Over the next few hours, students straggled into the club. When Jochim arrived, he was very upset and argued with the club president about opening the cupboard where the foils were kept.
“I must go and defend my family!” Jochim wailed, his eyes brimming.
“Jochim. We will all go. Don’t you remember what happened the last time you fenced? You stabbed yourself in the foot so bad Stefan had to pull the foil out of the floor to free you,” Wolfgang Mauer said, rough but affectionate. “How will it help them for you to hurt yourself and no-one else?”
One of the other students, one Dominic didn’t know, shifted his feet. “But...what if it is true?” He glanced at them in turn, then looked down. “I mean, of course I don’t think Jochim would ever do such a thing, but there could be other Adarans who—”
Poor Jochim looked completely bewildered. “You are thinking we would kill these people? When we only now may go safely among you, we would throw this all away for nothing?”
The other student was unable to meet Jochim’s eyes. “People say it, alright? That Adarans think human blood will give them special power, and they put it in their food.”
None of the students spoke, silently watching Jochim. He raised his head, then shook it. “How many times must we say? We eat no meat. Human blood would be a hundred times forbidden to us.”
Dieter pushed forward, between Jochim and the accuser. “Come on, you lot. Don’t you remember how hard a time he has ordering a meal in a restaurant when he eats with us? Not much that doesn’t have meat somewhere.”
Small, reluctant nods. The accuser wasn’t giving up, though.
“That’s just because he doesn’t like it. I wouldn’t eat Adaran food,” he muttered.
“Oh, yes you did,” Wolfgang said with scorn. “Remember that chocolate torte two weeks ago? You had a big piece and said it was the best thing you’d ever had.”
Dieter perked up. “The torte? The one with the little chocolate curls on top?”
Jochim jerked his head, once, twice. “My mother. For my birthday.”
The mood of the room suddenly changed. Dominic watched, with amusement tinged with sadness, how the students eagerly rallied to defend a lady and her people because of her culinary skills. Her religion, the reason for the threat, was simply not mentioned again.
He reminded himself the goal was to protect the Adarans, not completely remove the prejudice against them. Not in a single day, at least.
“Hey, I know!” It was the club president again. “Let’s do a call-out!”
Mauer blinked. “Will they do it?”
“Sure! It’s been a long time since we have, you know. Everybody is bored with studying.”
Suddenly the students were rushing around, some to the recently-opened cupboard to gather foils in their arms, others running to the door with excited shouts.
“What’s going on?” Dominic called to Wolfgang Mauer. Wolfgang gave him a crooked smile.
“They are calling out the entire university.”
Through the diamond panes Dominic saw the crowd of students grow. They were shouting.
“Bursch! Geh raus! Geh raus!”
Ardhuin leaned forward to stare out the carriage window at the crowd of young men outside. They were laughing and smiling. Most held some kind of weapon.
“Are we too late?” she asked, even as she realized this was not anything like an angry mob.
Gutrune smiled. “It would seem the gentlemen were successful in finding allies.”
The carriage stopped at the entrance to the Closure. A great curving stone arch was carved with Adaran letters, and marked with signs of battering. Some of the stones were newer, others were cracked but left in place.
Ardhuin got out, stumbling slightly in her haste, and looked about. At last the crowd parted enough for her to see Dominic, who was talking to an elderly man in white robes edged in red. His face brightened when he saw her, but he also glanced at the shadow hat she wore and sighed.
“Permit me to introduce Sofon Gedchi. He is the religious leader of the Adarans here. Sofon Gedchi, Mademoiselle Andrews.”
When she took his offered hand, Ardhuin first felt the expected touch of warm skin, but she also had a fleeting sensation of cool, polished stone. Sofon Gedchi looked at her with an astonished expression she was sure her own face echoed. She also noticed he was not looking away, as the avoidance spell would encourage.
“Now how is this?” the old man said, in heavily accented Preusan. “Is all this power your own?”
Ardhuin gasped. She glanced at Dominic, who immediately shook his head. He looked shocked as well. If he had not told him, how did he know?
“Yes sir, it is. I have come to help you.”
The sofon simply said, “Yes.” The word encompassed her ability and intent, but she did not know how she knew this. “The children shelter within the temple. I go to them now.” He inclined his head and made his way into the Closure.
“How did he—” Dominic asked softly.
Ardhuin shook her head. “He has some kind of magical ability of his own, akin to yours, perhaps. Where did all these people come from?”
He grinned. “You know I went to see the students. Well, they managed to convince the entire university! It’s some kind of custom they have. If the leaders decide to do a call-out, every student must obey or risk social ostracism.”
“And Herr Asgaya?” Gutrune asked in her cool voice. “I do not see him here.”
“He is disposing the magicians who agreed to help at the other entrances, with the rest of the students.”
The rest of them. Meaning there were even more. Ardhuin looked at the boisterous crowd, clearly spoiling for action, and became aware of a sinking feeling.
“I fear we may have been too successful,” she ventured, quailing at Dominic’s downcast reaction. She indicated a quiet corner, and Dominic and Gutrune went with her. Satisfied that they were less likely to be overheard, she continued. “If the instigator of this plot sees such strong defenses, it will be clear to him the Adarans were warned. He must be led to think he can attack. Only then will we see the face of the enemy.”
“Do you think this plotter will appear in person?” Gutrune inquired.
“I don’t know—but it seems strange to me that they would rely entirely on an unguided mob. Someone will be present to make sure that their true intent is carried out.”
Dominic frowned. “We told the sofon that we would not enter the Closure. They are understandably worried about any large group of outsiders among them.”
“The defenders would only need to go far enough in
side to conceal themselves,” Gutrune pointed out. “Perhaps that would be permissible.”
“Let us ask him,” said Dominic. “I, too, would prefer we solve this mystery as soon as possible.”
Gutrune declined an invitation to join them, saying she would wait there in the event Markus Asgaya returned before they did.
Ardhuin and Dominic walked down the narrow, twisting streets of the Closure, occasionally asking directions. The light was leaving the sky, and in a few hours it would be dark. At last they came to an unexpectedly open area, and in the center was the temple.
It was a large, round building, made of boulders cemented together in such a way it seemed more like a natural pile of rocks than a wall. The entrance led down a gentle slope to two immense hammered copper doors.
Inside, a man wearing a black robe embroidered with white went to summon the sofon at their request.
“I thought the children were here,” Ardhuin remarked softly. “I don’t see them anywhere.” They stood in a sort of foyer, with numerous carved wooden pillars blocking the view of what seemed to be a large room beyond them. The walls were wood too, with faint golden symbols scattered over them.
The man in the embroidered robe reappeared and gestured for them to follow him. They went past the pillars to a wide-open space filled with simple wooden benches. The benches ranged in a circular pattern around an immense column, made to look like the trunk of an ancient tree. It had branches as well, springing up to the top of the temple’s dome and the stained glass inset in the center, and from these branches hung leaves of glass.
Ardhuin stared at it, amazed. Each leaf hung from its own wire, and even the tiny breezes within the temple produced a faint chiming noise. The overall color was a rich, clear green, but there were flashes and streaks of slightly different colors, and the whole shimmered with reflected light.
She recollected herself and continued forward. Dominic had been similarly astounded. The sofon waited for them near the base of the tree, and as she came closer she saw that there were doors in the trunk, as if it held a cabinet.
“It’s so beautiful,” she breathed.
The Last Mage Guardian Page 27
